


Take me to Church

by MegzWills



Category: South Park
Genre: Anal, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Porn, Prostitution, Sex Work, Sex Worker, Smut, just sin really, long plot, night club, porn with a plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-11
Updated: 2016-02-10
Packaged: 2018-05-19 15:26:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5971897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MegzWills/pseuds/MegzWills
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gregory and Christophe have been sharing an apartment for a long time now, both paying their half for the rent. Gregory works his usual barely-legal job, whilst Christophe's job is unknown to him; Gregory decide's it's time to change that and follows him to work one night. </p>
<p>Porn with a plot basically, because these two are my OTP and lack fics and love ;-;</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take me to Church

Christophe slumped through the door, his back resting against it as he shut it. He'd finally got home from work; it was 3am, the apartment was dark and quiet.   
He pulled off his coat, placing it up on the coat hanger. Normally he'd throw it on the floor or the back of the sofa but this was another little habit he'd picked up from Gregory, and he didn't seem to mind it. His shoe laces had came undone on the walk home, so he slipped them off and left them in a mess by the door.   
Christophe flicked on the light switch as he went into the kitchen and instantly went to the fridge, pulling out some things to make his sandwich. Everything he did was messy, especially making food; the bread ripped as he buttered it, and his toppings weren't really toppings, half of them were on his plate. 

Christophe picked up his plate and left the kitchen, flicking off the light switch as he left. He headed through the living room to the balcony, but stopped on the way as he noticed an overly large lump on the sofa.   
Gregory had crashed out again, he did this often. He would burn himself out doing work and crash out on the sofa, which was like a second bed to him. It was hard not to smile at Gregory like this; he tried so hard to look prim and proper in front of people, but by himself he always ended up a mess. 

The plate was set down on the coffee table and he closed the lid to Gregory's laptop. He took a blanket off the back of the sofa and lay it over Gregory, who was still in his usual orange shirt and dark brown trousers. The only time he'd ever wear non-formal clothes is was when he's ill, though that wasn't often, or when he was not going out at all for the day.  
Christophe had once tried hiding all his shirts from him, just to see if he'd actually go out in a t-shirt for once but instead he canceled his plans saying he was 'ill.' Christophe then threatened to burn his shirts, but instead got locked out on the balcony for a few hours to 'sit and think about what he's done.' 

He picked up his plate and looked at Gregory as he slept, which was a little creepy but Gregory looked like a resting angel. His cheeks reddened slightly, hair scruffy in a neat way, body calm and relaxed. He smiled then left Gregory to it, quietly stepping onto the balcony and closing the door behind him. 

The french man pulled out his packet of cigarettes and lighter from his trouser pocket as he sat down; he placed one in his mouth and lit it, then shoved the items back away. Christophe took a long, well needed drag, tilting his head back to exhale the smoke and watched it drift away in the dark. He'd been smoking for as long as he could remember. He started when he was about 8. Back then it was 'just to piss god off' but now it was a part of him, like his hands and feet; it was something that made Christophe himself, along with his messy appearance and strong, rough french accent despite not living in France for a very long time.

Christophe took his time, eating a sandwich and smoking his cigarette. This was one of the few things that made him relaxed. He could sit out here for as long as he wanted, and it was even nicer at night. There were no noisy people walking by or the sound of Gregory typing assignments on his laptop. It was just Christophe.


End file.
